


Rage, rage, against the dying of the light

by CasGetOutOfMyAss0907



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After 15x18, Dean Winchester Misses Castiel, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27997092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasGetOutOfMyAss0907/pseuds/CasGetOutOfMyAss0907
Summary: Shattered glass and papers were strewn throughout the room. Sam had watched as Dean chucked bottle after bottle at the wall, pushing the papers and books off of the bunker table as he reached for more.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Rage, rage, against the dying of the light

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this fic deals with grief.
> 
> Blood warning.
> 
> Thank you to @fandom_stuff for the help with the title, I appreciate it :)

Shattered glass and papers were strewn throughout the room. Sam had watched as Dean chucked bottle after bottle at the wall, pushing the papers and books off of the bunker table as he reached for more. Sam had to stop him from tearing pages out of the books, Dean was upset, but that doesn’t mean he could ruin journals that were hundreds of years old. As the last whiskey bottle hit the wall, shattering and splashing the amber liquid on all surrounding surfaces, Dean fell to the floor. He was numb and couldn’t feel that he had sliced his palm on a shard of glass when he made contact with the cool concrete. 

Dean looked down at the crimson liquid that was flowing from his hand, the cut was deep and it probably needed stitches, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment. Cas was gone, and Dean knew it was for good this time. Tears streamed down his face and soaked the collar of his shirt as he continued watching the blood flow from his hand. “Shit, Dean,” Sam said as he unbuttoned his flannel and wrapped it tightly around Dean’s hand. “Come on, let’s get you in a chair.”

Dean stumbled alongside Sam, and he was guided to the nearest chair, Sam had to use all of his strength to pull his brother up from the floor. Once Dean was seated, Sam ran off to get the first aid kit from the storage room. Blood had soaked through the flannel around Dean’s hand, staining the blue fabric, it had been Sam’s favorite flannel and it was ruined now. Everything was ruined because of him. The bunker was trashed because of him. Cas was gone because of him. 

Dean was sobbing as Sam returned, carefully removing the flannel and attempting to clean the wound. “I’m going to have to stitch this up Dean,” Sam said as he reached for the sewing kit on the table. Dean winced as Sam began the first stitch, it hurt like hell, but he welcomed the pain. The pain in his hand kept him distracted from the pain he felt in his heart

Sam finished with the stitches and cleaned around the cut once more with an alcohol pad before he wrapped Dean’s hand with gauze. Sam lifted himself from the ground where he was kneeling and pulled over his own chair next to Dean’s. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, but in reality it had only been a few minutes before Sam spoke. “It’s going to be okay Dean, we will figure this out. Like we always do.” 

“Not this time.” Dean’s voice came out hoarse and small as he looked to Sam with red rimmed eyes. He pushed himself up from the chair and staggered through the bunker to his room, ignoring Sam’s calls to come back, so they could talk. He didn’t want to talk. 

Dean threw himself onto his bed, fully clothed and covered in blood and alcohol. He pulled his pillow close to him and cried into it, more tears falling from his eyes like a river that would never run dry. “I- I need you Cas.” Dean managed to whisper to himself between sobs. 

Memories of blue eyes and stolen glances flooded Dean’s mind. No one had ever looked at him the way Cas had, no one had ever believed in him like Cas did. Cas was his salvation, the thing that kept him grounded and now he was gone. Dean could feel himself coming undone and losing himself more with each tear that fell down his cheeks. “I love you too.” 

  
With that Dean was pulled into a deep sleep, dreaming of his lost angel, his lost love, and all of the times they spent together while no one was watching. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and thank you for being here. I appreciate you :)


End file.
